Tag Short Story

Oranges and Lemons – Magpie Tales

freyathewriter 2 Comments

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There is no finer thing in life than decadence – being able to take yourself out of your thoughts, your inner turmoil, and just being, in all your glory.

That’s what he told me, anyway.

I was such a fool not to ask whose decadence he was referring to – I assumed he meant these ethereal heights were for our mutual enjoyment, for our entwined ecstacy.

I can give myself all the excuses in the world, can write my assumptions off as naivety borne from youth and exuberance, but really, I was stupid. I trusted someone when alarm bells were ringing louder than Oranges and Lemons.

More fool me. Oh yes, I might look like I’m having a good time, he has me dressed in all the finery, the silks, the satins, the lace.

Have you looked into my eyes lately, though?

There’s nothing left of me.

—–

Here’s this week’s entry into Magpie Tales. Please visit here for more creativity, and why not take part, if you feel the urge! I’m squeaking in before this week’s image is posted – better late than never, I hope!

This was somewhat inspired by John Fowles’ ‘The Collector’, and then, I have to confess, by my own, dark imaginings. I’ll leave that thought with you, shall I?

Blackout – Magpie Tales

freyathewriter 32 Comments

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Mother Earth’s daughter slept the sleep of the innocent, the blessed, the naive.

While she slept, war waged.

Her mother fought battle upon battle. fire with fire, flood with flood, she hurled everything in her arsenal at those who underestimated her.

And yet, forlornly, they had one thing at their disposal that Mother Earth did not, and in the end, it was this that brought darkness to the world and ensured that her daughter’s sleep would never, ever end.

Ignorance – it was this that killed us all.

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Here’s this week’s entry into Magpie Tales. Please visit here for more creativity, and why not take part, if you feel the urge!

The Sins – Five Sentence Fiction

freyathewriter 3 Comments

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“You’re just like your mother.”

My skin burned, with fear, with anger, but most of all, with the shard of white-hot hurt that found its target like an arrow, straight and true.

The one thing I never wanted to hear had come to pass; I had given this worry all of my attention and like a perverse lighthouse, I had shown the words the way, straight to my heart.

It didn’t help that it was intended as a compliment, the ultimate accolade; it just highlighted the fact that she had fooled yet another person, yet one more time.

I stroke my belly, picturing the small one growing within me; I will do everything in my power to be nothing like her, and if I just focus on that, it will all be OK – won’t it?

—–

Here is my latest entry into the lovely Lillie’s Five Sentence Fiction, where she has provided this photo for our inspiration. Please take note, this really is fiction! I didn’t have a horrific childhood, thank goodness.

Please do visit here to read the entries from other writers who love to keep it short too.